Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Scout
“Is it supposed to be abstract? Or do I need to have my prescription checked?” I hear Colleen ask as the crowd gathers to watch me, the way they always do around this time of day.
I’ve never felt more like a zoo animal in my life. Maybe I should start selling tickets? I have no doubt in my mind they’d pay to see the show.
You’d think the newness would’ve died down by now, but apparently the people in this town have a few concerns with my pace. They’re not the only ones worried about me finishing this mural in time for the festival, but I can’t let them know that. It’ll just make their worrying that much worse.
I drop the brush, shaking my arm as I stretch my tired hand. I severely overestimated my physical endurance, not that my bone-deep exhaustion after last night is making things any easier.
What the hell did he do to me last night? I could barely keep my eyes open to finish one of my favorite movies and practically passed out before my head hit my pillow. I think I could’ve slept another eight hours, and it wouldn’t have been enough.
If that’s how my body responds to orgasms, then I need to up my calorie intake… maybe add in some electrolytes just to be safe…
“I thought she was a professional or a prodigy or something. That’s what Lucy told me, anyway,” someone else whispers, not so quietly.
And here I thought all my self-doubts in my head were annoying… But now I get the added bonus of hearing everyone else’s too… Love that for me.
I lower the lift to refill my paint cup, swapping my brush for a roller.
Judging by the size of the crowd and the rumble of my stomach, I’m assuming it’s getting close to lunch time.
I’ll have to grab something quick today.
I need to finish the rest of this section of the background so I can start layering the next part on top tomorrow.
I was stubborn at first, using the A-frame ladder, just because Luka made such a big deal about it, but that got old pretty quickly.
After a few days of climbing up and down, I finally gave in and started using the lift.
It’s one less strain on my muscles, and at this point, I’ll do anything to make this work a little easier.
Even if it means admitting that Luka was right.
Turns out I don’t hate his cockiness quite as much now that I’ve seen firsthand how capable he is.
He’s got to be using some kind of magic on me, the way he commands me so easily.
It’s like being under a spell, my body folds for him, doing anything he asks because she knows the reward that will come with pleasing him.
Come … I snicker at my accidental innuendo, feeling my warm cheeks grow hotter. Oh, how skillfully that man is at making me come. And the worst part is, I know he’s still holding back on me. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like once he’s convinced I’m ready to graduate to the next level…
“’Scuse me. Can we clear a path? I’ve got lunch.”
The voice catches my attention, standing out among the others. I swear, I’m basically Pavlov’s dog when it comes to the way I’m tuned into this man.
A smile stretches over my lips as I glance down to see Luka, standing beneath the lift, holding a paper bag and an ice-cold lemonade.
My stomach flutters with butterflies at the sight of him.
This is the second time he’s surprised me, showing up with lunch in hand, and my stomach growls in anticipation.
“Did you hear me? I said I brought lunch. Get your ass down here already,” Luka calls from beneath me.
“Be right there,” I call back. “I’m just going to finish this top corner.
” I stand on my tiptoes, reaching my roller to get the awkward corner so that this section can dry while I take a break.
It’s hard to see what I’m doing because the sun’s shining right in my eyes, but I do my best to cover the rough surface.
A trickle of sweat rolls down my temple, and I use the back of my hand to wipe it away.
I feel something bump against my hand, and then there’s a loud buzzing near my ear. It flies around my head, then moves to the other side, but it’s so fast I can’t see where it went.
“Woman, if you don’t get your ass down here and eat this sandwich, I’m going to come up there and feed it to?—”
Luka’s threat gets cut short when a fat, winged demon of a bug dive-bombs my face.
It zigzags wildly, refusing to retreat no matter how frantically I swat at it.
I’ve watched enough horror movies to recognize the undeniable look of murder in its eyes, and since I’m the only one up here, I’m afraid I’m the next unlucky victim.
Before I have time to defend myself, it dive-bombs me, its fat, fuzzy body bumping into my cheek, and I scream, realizing it’s a huge bumblebee.
“Scout, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” I hear Luka, but with the way this bee is attacking me right now, it’s all I can do to shield myself.
Bees aren’t aggressive, I remind myself, but the persistent insect proves otherwise. I wave the paint roller, hoping I can bat it away at the very least. Maybe it’ll take a hint that I’m not the enemy here.
I make contact with the giant insect, feeling the weight of its fuzzy black-and-yellow body as I swing the roller like a bat, sending it flying.
“I’m sorry!” I cry out—genuinely hoping I didn’t hurt it, but mostly just relieved to have survived the attack.
I press the button to lower the lift, only to spot it again—charging straight toward me like a fighter jet on a suicide mission.
The bee barrels straight into my face, and I scream, just before a sharp sting lands right on my upper lip. Heat flares instantly.
By the time the lift reaches the ground, Luka’s waiting with a look of concern—until he sees me.
“Holy shit, Scout! What happened to your face?”
“Here, hold this on your lip. It’ll help with the swelling.”
I look down at the pack of frozen hot dogs Luka’s holding. “Eww. I’m not icing my lip with frozen hot dogs. Don’t you have a normal ice pack?”
A look of genuine confusion crosses his face before he places the pack of hot dogs in my hands.
“Why would I need an icepack when I have frozen hot dogs? Don’t look down your nose like that.
These work just as well to get the job done, and unlike an icepack, they’re biodegradable and aren’t full of chemicals that could kill you if ingested. ”
I furrow my eyebrows. “I feel like there’s more to this story…”
“Guy chewed through an ice pack as a baby, swallowed half the contents before mom realized he’d bitten a hole in the bag,” he says with a shrug.
“He had to have his stomach pumped, and it scared my parents so bad that they started using frozen food from then on out. In my experience, frozen hot dogs work the best.”
“Huh. That actually makes sense.”
Luka rolls his eyes, but I can see the hint of a smile on his lips.
He may be trying to hide it, but there’s an undeniable look of concern on his face as he holds the frozen hot dogs against my lip.
“The bumblebee really did a number on you. Are you sure you’re not allergic?
” He holds my head as he studies my rapidly growing lip.
“I don’t think so… I’ve never been stung before.”
After the bee incident, Luka insisted I let Dr. Stone check me out to make sure I wasn’t having a severe allergic reaction.
It was actually pretty cute, the way he freaked out and rushed me over to his office, demanding that it was an emergency.
According to Dr. Stone, I wasn’t showing any signs of a severe allergic reaction, but he told Luka to keep an eye on me for the next few hours and let him know if I developed any more symptoms.
He said the swelling was likely due to the heat, possibly related to blood flow issues from working in the sun all day. And of course, lips are a sensitive area to be stung in.
That much I can confirm. It feels like I got stabbed with a branding iron, and my poor lip is so swollen, I’ve gone from “bad lip injections” to full-on duck face.
Fortunately, my throat and tongue are fine, and I can still breathe, so we’re calling it a win.
Nothing a little Benadryl and ice can’t fix.
After we got home, Luka helped me shower, insisting he needed to get in with me to keep an eye on me in case I lost consciousness.
I was disappointed when he didn’t take off his underwear; he even batted my hand away when I tried to cop a feel.
And now he’s got me propped up on the couch with my feet in his lap while he tries to find something for us to watch.
I can feel the Benadryl starting to kick in as I blink my heavy eyelids, feeling relaxed. As silly as I think Luka’s being, it feels nice having someone so worried about me. I can’t remember the last time someone took care of me like this.
Even as a little girl, my mother wasn’t very nurturing. If I was hurt or sick, she’d give me medicine and make sure I was seen by a doctor, but she didn’t hold me or snuggle me the way Luka’s parents did. And I doubt Jimmy ever noticed if I was sick.
I snuggle into the warm blanket as Luka rubs my feet. His skilled hands massaging and caressing my sore muscles, melting all my stress away with every touch.
“I was going to tell you, I’m uh… I’m going to be taking some vacation time from work… so don’t worry about being behind on the mural. I’m happy to help you as much as I can.”
I shake my head. “Luka, you don’t have to do that. Please don’t take time off because of me. I can handle it. I don’t want you to inconvenience yourself any more than you already have?—”
“It’s done,” he says, and there’s finality in his tone, so I stop trying to argue. “Besides, that just means we get to spend more time together now.” He winks, returning his attention back to massaging my foot.
I try to pull away from him, but he only tightens his grip, pinning me with a stern look. “You’re not supposed to exert yourself. Don’t make me tie you down… I promise it won’t be as much fun without the happy ending.”
I blow out a huff and sink back down, knowing he’s not going to let up about Dr. Stone’s orders, especially with this big fat reminder right in front of his face.
“So, you’re taking the rest of the summer off… like a vacation? Why?” I ask, feeling curious.
“Yeah… I thought a break could be nice, and I could help you with the mural. I haven’t taken a real vacation in… well… ever, I guess.” He sounds genuinely surprised by that realization. As sweet as the sentiment is, I can’t help but feel like there’s more that he’s not telling me.
“Are you happy with how your life turned out?” I blurt out the question surprising both of us.
He smirks before planting a kiss on the top of my foot. “It’s hard to complain. I think I’ve got a pretty good thing going here.”
“Yeah, but are you fulfilled?”
He narrows his eyebrows incredulously. “Why are you asking?”
“I just mean… I don’t know… I’ve had a lot of time to myself over the last few weeks, painting and reconnecting with parts of myself I’d forgotten about. I’ve found myself thinking about my life and how different it is from what I thought it’d be.”
“Different better or different worse?” he asks.
I shrug. “Both. Depends on the day, I guess. But I was asking about you.” I move to sit up a little. “Are you happy working for your family’s business?”
“Yeah… I mean… what else would I be doing?”
“I don’t know. I remember how passionate you were growing up, how you wanted to make a difference. I guess I just thought you’d have a side project or two. Something to give back to causes you care about.”
His hands stop moving on my foot. “I give back. I donate to charities all the time. I’m heading up the fucking Phantom Festival this year. What makes you think I need to do more?” His words are defensive and laced with anger.
I shake my head, the grogginess of the medicine making it hard to think clearly, and now I’m wondering if that’s why I started this conversation to begin with.
“No. I know that. I was just saying… I thought you’d be more passionate about something…
I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m making sense right now. ”
“Then why don’t you stop talking and rest,” he snaps back. His jaw is tight, and he’s clearly annoyed, but judging by the way he just freaked out on me, I think it’s safe to assume I struck a nerve.
I wasn’t trying to offend him, but why is it that he can call me out, but I’m not allowed to do the same for him?
I want to ask him, but my eyes are growing heavier, and my brain is too fuzzy. I lay back down and snuggle into my blanket. I just want to close my eyes for a minute and rest.
I feel myself drifting off, teetering on the edge of sleep, but just before I tip over, I hear L.O.K.I’s voice. “Now that she’s asleep. Would you like me to tell you what I discovered today?”
I feel Luka’s weight shift beneath my legs, and then he’s standing. “Why don’t we discuss this in my office.”
That’s odd… Why is he being so secretive?
I wish I had the energy to ask, but before my thoughts can go any further, I feel myself finally lose the battle, and I drift off to sleep.